“A horn,” Bert says, clearly unimpressed. “What, are you going to play a loud note at our wizard?”
“It’s a projector horn,” you explain. “Makes your voice echo through a whole room, so whoever hears you can’t tell where exactly you are. The old troupe used it for ghost scenes.”
“And they kept it locked up in an oversized prop chest?” Bert asks.
“The theater owner wanted to sell it, the troupe refused, so they locked it up and hid the key. My grandmother’s the one who got trusted with it.”
“But it’s just a prop box. Easy to saw through,” Bert says incredulously. “I’m surprised the key even opens it, most of the time they don’t actually lock.”
“It’s not an ordinary prop box,” you reply. “It’s made out of briskwood. Very valuable.”
“And worth significantly less if you cut it open, then,” Bert realizes. “Suppose that explains it. Though, I’d think it would make more sense to take the box with you after the theater closed down…”
“Well, I could tell you the story behind that, but we’ve got work to do,” you reply.
“I guess we do, but I don’t know what it is yet. You haven’t told me what you’re planning with that horn.”
“You don’t need to worry about that part right away. I just need you to help me set something up.”