When he asks you to play a game of chess, you will demur and say that the last time you played was when you were ten, after reading Alice Through The Looking Glass. You were desperately looking for the Red Queen in your pieces, but failing to find her, concentrated on making your horses zigzag through the squares instead. He will take this as a sign of weakness, another indication of the basic incompatibility in this quasi-relationship. It would be in your best interest to leave now, despite knowing no one in this city and having only a vague idea of where you are. Stop trying to save him. Just leave.